


Merry XXX-mas

by emungere, louise_lux



Category: Saiyuki
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Christmas, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-18
Updated: 2010-01-18
Packaged: 2018-03-08 03:27:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3193568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emungere/pseuds/emungere, https://archiveofourown.org/users/louise_lux/pseuds/louise_lux
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sanzo runs a stylish and tasteful male escort agency. One Christmas Eve, Gojyo gets an unexpected assigment...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Merry XXX-mas

The offices of 'Man About Town' were small and cramped and at that particular moment were full of men. Jo sat on a hard plastic chair and watched Shadwell running through the evening's assignments with a sense of growing doom. The scent of whiteboard marker pens filled the room, mingling with about seventeen different brands of hair gel and aftershave.

Shadwell wore a Hawaiian shirt and offensive pink Keds and an offensive attitude. He had scowl that could melt plastic. His so-called nephew sat cross-legged like a monkey on a stool next to him, grinning under his mop of shaggy brown hair. What the hell kind of person thought this was suitable work experience for a kid anyway? Jo studied him. He was a nice kid, too loud and dumb for his own good though. He didn't look anything like Shadwell. Not even slightly. Jo sunk down in his plastic chair. Nothing good could come of thinking too hard about that.

"You can wear the goddamned costumes or you can not get paid," Shadwell said, with an air of a general marshalling troops for the big push. The grumbling died down, but only slightly.

Christmas Eve was usually a good night: most people were in a good mood and wanted someone to take to cool parties or out to dinner. Jo usually made enough in tips to take a holiday in January and lie on a beach for a few weeks. But this one was shaping up to suck hard. Jo eyed the rack of waiting Santa costumes. Next to him, Kobe was putting gloss on his nails and the sharp smell of polish cut through everything else. Kobe caught his look and scowled, and Jo abruptly remembered that he owed him his leather shorts back. 

"Uh, sorry," he said. "Next Monday?"

"Whatever. Just get them dry cleaned first," Kobe snapped, then went back to looking like a henna-red ice princess.

"Okay," Shadwell said, pointing a marker pen at them threateningly. "Listen up. You can see the Santa suits and you know what it means."

"Oh god," Jo muttered.

"Tonight's the night you make their wishes come true and fill their stockings up to the brim," said Shadwell, to more or less total silence. An evil smile curled across his lips. "That's your official spiel. Stick to it."

Jo closed his eyes briefly. It didn't help.

The costumes had red spandex tops trimmed with white feathers. The pants were red...something. Vinyl, pleather, he really wasn't sure. They stuck to his legs and had him sweating inside of five minutes. The boots were some equally slick and plasticky material. Jo usually went for jeans and a tank top, or maybe a nice suit. He'd never had any complaints. Nobody was even going to want to touch this to take it off him.

He glanced in the cheap, wavy mirror as he walked out. He had to admit, it looked kinda hot, at least from a distance. But still. Fill their stockings to the brim? Shadwell was a menace. He pulled his overcoat on, checked himself again, found he looked more like a flasher than an obscene elf, and headed out.

In the car, he looked at his first address. Some fancy apartment building in the business district. He hoped there was a parking garage close by. The temperature was in the twenties and still falling.

By the time he was halfway there, the snow started turning to ice. It stuck to his wipers and glinted sharply in the amber streetlights, winking at him with a hint of threat. If he got stuck at the first guy's place, there went his vacation plans. 

At least there was valet parking, and a nice canopy so he didn't get iced on. Excessively shiny elevator, old guy with a shiny watch worth more than Jo, apartment 518. He glanced up and down the hall, slipped his coat off, and knocked.

The door opened a crack. "Ah, no thank you," someone said. "I've already got one."

"Huh? I'm from Man About Town."

The door opened a little wider, to reveal a tallish thin guy with dark hair and a peering expression. He wore a baggy cardigan and old jeans. His hair was all plastered to one side like he'd recently been sleeping. "Oh. I beg your pardon."

Jo smiled. He'd never met this one before, and the guy was kind of cute in a where-are-my-glasses-oh-they're-on-my-head kind of way.

"I'm here to, um, fill your stocking. To show you my yule log."

"I beg your pardon?" the guy said, again. His mouth fell open a little, like he'd never even heard of the concept of smutty innuendo. Jo took a step back and checked the door number and name. Yeah, this was the right one.

"I'm a Christmas fairy," Jo said, starting to sweat in his pleather and spandex under this guy's dumbfounded gaze. "A gesture of good will and all that shit. Stuff. From the agency. The escort agency."

"Oh," the guy said, squinting. "Sex. I see. You'd better come in then."

The guy's apartment, although quite a good size, was basically made of books. They filled the shelves, which went from floor to ceiling. Where there were no shelves, they were stacked against the walls in top-heavy piles. Some of the piles had toppled over, and the books had slithered to the carpet. 

Jo stood in the middle of the room and looked around. His pants made little squeaky sounds when he moved. Expensive looking Chinese vases stood on expensive looking side tables, and paintings hung on the walls. Under his boots was a rich, red, Turkey rug.

"Um. It's only sex if you pay," he said. "Otherwise it's just a strip."

The guy pulled out a pair of horn-rimmed glasses from the pocket of his grey cardigan and put them on. His slippers were going at the toes. Despite it all, he was kind of weirdly hot. Jo didn't know how he was managing it. 

"Well. Hm. I imagine you'll be glad to get out of those clothes, at least."

Jo shifted uncomfortably. Too true. The feathers were seriously making his neck itch. He nodded. "Yeah. So. Should I...show you my Christmas spirit?"

"What's your name?"

"Just call me Kris Kringle." Jo winked. It was a good wink. He'd practiced it. It didn't seem to have any effect at all. Maybe the guy needed a new prescription for his glasses.

He tried again. "Uh. What do you want it to be?"

"I want it to be the actual name that your mother gifted you with when you were born."

"Oh." He lied about his name to clients usually, but no one'd ever asked him quite like that before. "It's, uh, Jo."

"It's very nice to meet you, Jo. I'm Hector." He held out his hand, and Jo shook it. "You may remove your clothes whenever you like," Hector continued. "Would you like some music?"

"Whatever you'd like, I'd like."

Hector smiled. "Oh, good. I'd like some eggnog, and the last batch of gingerbread men should be about done. I'll be right back, please do sit down."

Jo stared after his grey-cardiganed back for a second, then shrugged and sat down in the single armchair. It had lumps. Some of the lumps were books, Jo found out after some wriggling. One of the lumps was a small shiny silver and black PDA. It made several desperate-sounding tweedling noises when Jo touched it, like it was long neglected and wanted attention. He put it down, because Hector was pushing back through the door. 

He was carrying a red plastic tray, the type that Jo recognized from about every cheap cafe he'd ever been in. The sweet smell of baking wafted in with him and Jo inhaled a little too deeply. It was a nice homey smell, or at least like he imagined home might smell. His place never smelled like that. Hector smiled down at him and thrust the tray in his face.

"Please, take one," Hector said, in an almost threatening way. 

"Thanks," Jo said. 

Hector sat on the sofa across from him, took a cookie and began to dismember it. There was an odd, peaceful little pause then. The room was warm and the vast amounts of paper made Jo feel like he was in some sort of strange grotto. A book grotto. Through the clumsily drawn curtains Jo could see ice forming in sparkling patterns on the window panes. Hector was looking at him over his glasses.

"Is that costume comfortable?" Hector said, gesturing with a gingerbread leg. "It looks like it might chafe." 

"Kind of does, a bit," Jo said. 

"I've always thought it was an odd custom."

"To dress in pleather?" 

"To adopt an early twentieth century advertising man's idea of how a long dead Greek bishop might choose to dress for the cold weather."

"It's just a dumb outfit," Jo said. He bit the head off his gingerbread man. "I don't even want to know what that all meant."

"You're very forthright," Hector said, chewing slowly.

"Comes with the job, I guess." Jo's eggnog delivered an unexpectedly fiery kick to his stomach. Hector leaned forward and poured him another from the heavy green glass jug that sat on the tray. "Hey," Jo grinned. "You don't actually need to get me drunk, Hector."

His gaze strayed to Jo's spandex clad chest. "I am well aware of that, believe me."

Hector had a good smile, Jo thought, like he was maybe laughing at you, or himself, or everything. It was hard to tell. He was handsome, too. He had really nice skin and his eyes were pretty and long-lashed. His hands looked strong. Jo got another hot little kick in his stomach that had nothing to do with alcohol. 

Hector kicked his slippers off and drew his legs up to sit cross-legged on the sofa. Two books slipped off onto the floor and landed with their pages open. 

"Hey, let me get those," Jo said.

"Oh, don't worry. Have more eggnog." 

"Ooh, thanks. It's good."

"I made it myself."

They looked at each other and drank more. There was an awful lot of eggnog in the jug. Hector didn't seem in any hurry to get things moving. He seemed more interested in sitting and gazing dreamily at Jo, which, yes, was a little unnerving. He drank more eggnog to compensate and his stomach gurgled. He was wondering when the stripping should start when Hector silently offered him another gingerbread.

"Maybe I should turn up the heating," Hector said. His eyes looked a lot darker now. "If you're going to be naked."

"Um. It's quite toasty." It was, especially with Hector looking at him like that. It was very...warming. "I think I'll be okay."

Hector set his cup down and wandered over to a low, dark, wooden table. It had curly legs and was bearing a load composed of more books and a record player. There was no CD player or anything. Hector scrabbled through a pile of records until he said, "Ah!" High ethereal voices drifted from the speakers. Choir boy voices, sounding like angels.

Jo helped himself to more drink. "There's no way I'm gonna strip to choirboys," he said, and then giggled, because it was funny. Hector smiled along with him, nodding. 

"No, but would you let me undress you to it?"

"Huh. Is that what you want?" Jo said. "Most guys want me to do all the hard work."

Hector smiled down at his cup of eggnog. "Undressing you doesn't seem like it would be a tedious task."

Jo almost wanted to blush. "Heh. I-- Well, thank you. I like the music." 

"Good." They smiled at each other again. The music was beautiful in a way he didn't have proper words for. It made him feel calm and safe. "Are you sleepy? You look tired."

"Nah, not really." He laid his head back against the chair and closed his eyes. He could sleep, he thought. It was so warm, and the alcohol gave him a nice buzz. He'd been working all day already, down at the bar. "You don't mind that I'm not naked yet?"

"Not at all." He felt Hector come close and then his cup was taken from his fingers. He didn't mind. "You're very lovely, even in those clothes," he heard Hector say, as he slipped into sleep. 

He woke up some time later. Hector was stretched out on the couch, a book propped on his chest. He glanced at Jo. 

"The bathroom's through the red door," he said.

"Oh, damn. Sorry, I never meant to sleep. What time is it?"

"Ten thirty."

"Crap! I'm supposed to be done with like three jobs by now." He rubbed a hand over his face. The corner of his mouth was wet, and he hoped he hadn't been drooling. 

Hector shook his head and nodded to the tiny television that sat in a corner on a platform of books. The weather guy from channel 13 was earnestly imploring everyone, with a background of direly flashing police and ambulance lights, to stay indoors and keep warm and safe. The camera panned around to show the glistening coat of ice on the roads, a hapless pedestrian trying and failing to stay upright nearby, and a downed power line. 

"Wow. Looks bad." 

"You'd better stay. I wouldn't want you to get hurt."

"I'll be fine," Jo said automatically. He started to get up, but Hector was faster, unfolding himself from the couch and moving quickly to stand between Jo's legs. 

"Yes, you will." He caught the hem of Jo's horrible shirt and tugged it up and off over his head. "Tell me, am I allowed to touch you during this free show?"

Jo nodded, even though it was kind of not true. A little touching, yeah, to build up the tension and get them excited enough to go for the full package, but not like this. Hector's warm hands smoothed over his stomach and chest, fingertips catching against his nipples. He kissed Jo's stomach, and then his shoulder, and pulled the ridiculous Santa hat off. The boots were done away with as well, and Hector knelt and looked up at him.

"Stand up, please." 

Jo stood, legs a little wobbly with sleep, cock starting to take an interest. Hector's forehead rested against his thigh for a moment, and then Hector's hands were working on the huge patent leather belt, pulling it open. He eased the pants down and kissed Jo's hip, which definitely wasn't allowed touching. 

Even the underwear had a band of white fuzz to top its red satiny fabric. Hector rubbed his cheek against it and looked up at Jo, a thoughtful expression on his face. 

"Every one of your past customers is getting a...visit from Santa tonight?"

"Yeah. Well. That was the plan, before the storm hit."

Hector smiled. "How lucky I am to have gotten you out of all the ill dressed young men in red suits roaming the city even now."

He pulled down Jo's pants and underwear in one go and helped him step out of them. Jo could feel warm breath on his cock. 

And then Hector stood up. "Would you like a robe?" he said. "I can heat up some soup for dinner." 

He wandered off to another room, leaving Jo alone with his half-hard dick and his near-terminal case of confusion. 

When Hector returned, he helped Jo into a scruffy blue robe and got them a couple bowls of lentil soup. Jo pulled his feet up on the chair and braced his bowl on his knees. 

"It's really good. Um. Thanks." 

"You're quite welcome."

Jo slurped soup for a minute or two.

"Hector?"

"Hm?"

"Uh. Never mind." Jo looked at Hector in his glasses and cardigan and thought he probably didn't even know that most guys would've fucked him and kicked him out hours ago. No cookies, no eggnog, definitely no naps. He looked down at his soup. The stripping had technically been completed. "So, what d'you wanna do now?" 

Hector looked at him, then pawed briefly through a TV listings guide. "The Charlie Brown Christmas Special is on."

"Oh, cool."

"You won't be able to see it from over there." He shifted on the sofa, making room. Jo finished the last of his soup and then padded over. "Will you change the channel to 23, please?"

The TV had big buttons and Hector gave him a blank look when he asked where the remote was. Peppermint Patty flickered into freckled life on the tiny screen. 

Hector sat close to him, his breathing slow and even, so much so that Jo had to keep checking to see that he was awake. He looked engrossed. 

"I don't like Snoopy," he said, after a while. He put his hand on Jo's thigh, quite casually, and stroked. "He's too smug."

"Yeah? Not sure about that. He's more philosophical. He thinks about life. Not like Charlie Brown. Dude's a whiner," Jo said. They glanced at each other and then they both smiled at the same time.

"It's A Wonderful Life is also on," Hector said. "Would you?"

Jo considered the buttons. He stabbed at some and the screen fuzzed out. "How old is this thing anyway?" he muttered. He tried a few more and found Humphrey Bogart and Katherine Hepburn sailing down a river in the jungle. 

"This okay?"

"Yes, fine. I won it," Hector said, patting the sofa next to him, "twenty years ago." 

"Huh. What for?"

"I wrote a poem in high school and it won a competition. It's the only thing I've ever won."

"Is that what you do, write poems?" Jo said. 

"No, I'm a teacher."

"Like, little kids?" Jo couldn't picture it.

"No," Hector said. "At the city university." Jo's robe had fallen open across the thigh and Hector smoothed his palm down Jo's leg.

"Hey," Jo said, and turned to look at Hector, which meant they were almost nose to nose.

"Should I not touch you?" Hector said, with a faint anxious look in his eyes. "I'm sorry."

Jo knew he should be making a deal and stating terms and payment amounts and shit like that. What came out was: "No, it's good." His voice was rough. "I like it. Don't stop."

Hector moved closer with a soft sigh. He left his hand where it was and they watched the film. After a little while, Hector stretched out and pillowed his head on Jo's lap. 

"Hey..."

"You don't mind?"

No, he didn't, he just wasn't used to it. He looked down and shook his head. He put his hand in Hector's hair and began to stroke it.

"Afterwards, do you think they stay in Africa and sail boats and stuff?" Jo said, when the credits rolled. 

"Maybe they go back to England and have babies."

"Nah," Jo said, looking down at Hector's face. Hector met his eyes, then reached up to touch Jo's hair. "I bet they want more adventure," Jo said. His throat was dry. His cock was getting stiff for no more reason than the way Hector was looking at him, and Hector could probably feel it. 

"It's past midnight," Hector said, softly. "I want my present." He turned his head to the side and nuzzled through the fold of Jo's robe and Jo felt a hot, wet lick on his cock.

"Oh my god," Jo whispered, as Hector turned over and pushed the cloth away and mouthed at him, soft wet kisses on the base of his cock. "Yeah."

Hector stopped, then pulled back. "Oh. I don't have any condoms," he said, against Jo's thigh.

Jo started to say that he did, before he remembered that he'd left the completely ridiculous Santa sack in the car. Usually, the condoms lived in his pocket, but the damn pants didn't have pockets. 

Jo touched his hair, stroking floppy strands of it back from his forehead. "How often do get checked?" he said. 

"Not since my last, ah, one night stand. Six years ago." 

"Holy shit. Six years since you fucked anyone?" 

Hector blinked up at him, anxious again. "I'm very busy with my work."

There was no reason to trust this guy. This was stupid. He was always so careful. He touched Hector's wet, parted lips, and Hector's tongue curled around the tip of his finger, so warm and slick.

"Okay," Jo said. "Yeah. It's okay." 

Hector smiled at him and slid his cheek across Jo's palm as he turned back to Jo's dick. His tongue was just as warm and slick there, and it felt even better. Jo touched his hair and the back of his neck. Hector hummed happily and slid his lips over the head of Jo's cock. 

"That's nice, that's good," Jo said, uselessly. He touched Hector's back, palms flattened on the immensely soft knit of the sweater. Hector licked and sucked, and his hand curled over the top of Jo's thigh, fingers pushing against his flesh. "Jesus," Jo whispered. "Don't stop. Take your shirt off. Fuck." 

Hector chuckled and planted a sucking kiss next to his hand on Jo's thigh. "All three at the same time?"

"Shhh, not used to... You're throwing me off here. Usually it's, you know, wham, bam, thank you, ma'am."

"Mm," Hector said. He caught the ends of Jo's hair and tugged him down into kissing range, lifting himself up on one elbow. He tasted a lot like eggnog, and Jo kept his eyes open to watch the dark blur of his lashes against his cheeks. It felt weirdly important, like something he'd want to remember later. Hector kissed him almost delicately, drawing back a fraction after each press of lips until Jo was nearly bent double following after his mouth. 

Hector smiled and kissed the head of his cock instead. He stopped briefly to slide off the sweater and t-shirt before bending down again. 

Jo's hands drifted over the warm skin of his back, and Jo's eyes slipped closed. Hector made a soft, pleased noise when Jo cupped the back of his neck. He slid his mouth over Jo's cock and closed his lips firmly around the base, and sucked. 

It seemed to Jo like surely he'd need to breathe or back off or something any second now, but Hector kept up the perfect, strong suction, the slide of his tongue, and then Jo was digging his hands carelessly into Hector's hair, hands shaking a little, going to pieces. His breath stuck in his throat as he came. He was pulling Hector's hair too hard. 

"Sorry," he gasped, "sorry, sorry." 

Hector licked his lips and looked up at him with an almost sly smile. "You don't need to be. That was the reaction I was going for, you know." 

Jo tipped his head back against the couch and laughed, breathless. "You're--fuck--you're pretty good at that for not having done it in six years." 

"I had a great deal of time to study the proper technique," Hector said, and Jo couldn't tell whether he was joking or not. He nestled his head on Jo's bare lap again and stared up at him.

"Heh. I don't know whether to be happy for me or sad for you about that." Jo slid his hand down Hector's bare chest. It was a really nice chest. He ran his fingertips through the thin line of hair that began below Hector's bellybutton, stroking down.

"I don't know either," Hector said. His voice was husky and he made a soft sound when Jo reached down and cupped the outline of his cock through his jeans.

"You're amazing," Jo said. Hector gave him a wry little squint. "Hey, I mean it."

"I could suck you again," Hector said, pushing his hips up. His gaze didn't waver. It was hot and direct and gave Jo little post-orgasmic tingles in his stomach.

"Yeah? You could suck on my cock all night, I wouldn't complain." Hector gave a desperate sounding little moan then and licked his lips. Jo smiled and leaned down over him, close enough to kiss. "You like that idea?" he said, softly. "That I want to put my cock in your mouth again, like right now?"

Hector nodded, and then moaned when Jo spread his hand over the front of Hector's jeans and rubbed hard. He slid his other hand into Hector's hair and held his head firm while he kissed him, thrusting down into his mouth over and over until Hector was almost twisting up against the hard press of his palm. Their lips slid together hard enough for Hector's sharp teeth to dig into Jo's upper lip.

"You can fuck me too," Hector said. It came out slurred, like he was having trouble even speaking. He was panting. 

Jo knew how to get people hot, and okay, he was using some of that skill on Hector, who hadn't even screwed anyone for years, but still. Jo's heart rate was picking up and blood was pumping back into his cock. One of Hector's hands was curled around his wrist, clinging on, and the other was jammed between them, and he was stroking Jo's chest as much as he could in an awkward curled up fashion.

"I don't wanna make you wait," Jo said. He dragged Hector's jeans open, shoving his hand down into his underwear. Hector was close to coming, Jo thought, so close his body was almost quivering with it. Jo knew. Jo could tell. Jo made guys do this every fucking day. Not like this though, really not like this.

"Jo," Hector said. Jo kissed him again, then turned Hector's head so his mouth slid over the end of his cock. 

"Suck me now," Jo whispered, pulling back to watch. 

Hector gasped and nodded and opened his lips. He couldn't manage anything more than soft uncoordinated licks along the shaft, and hot damp kisses, because Jo began milking his cock with hard tight squeezes, touches he used on himself sometimes when he wanted to come hard and fast. Hector moaned long and low when he came, Jo's shaft sliding over his mouth and the soft skin of his cheek. 

"Oh my god," Hector whispered. He slid his eyes shut and lay still and heavy in Jo's lap. "Oh my god," he said again, almost to himself, and his warm breath puffed against Jo's erection. He brushed his knuckles against Jo's chest. "You're amazing." 

Jo slid his fingers through the sticky mess on Hector's stomach. "You gonna sleep?"

Hector opened his pretty eyes and smiled. His eyes crinkled at the corners. He turned his head a little and rubbed his cheek against Jo's cock. "Maybe. I'm not used to this sort of thing." His smile was gorgeous, Jo thought. "Would you be very angry with me if I did?" 

"Nope," Jo said. "I can wait."

The slow spread of Hector's smile was worth it. His eyes closed again, slowly, and he made a softly satisfied sound. Bit by bit, his head grew heavier in Jo's lap until presumably he was asleep. 

Jo curled bits of Hector's hair around his fingers and watched it escape to fall smoothly against his head again. There was something on TV about volcanoes. Jo tried not to snicker and therefore bounce Hector's head as he watched a computer generated reenactment of one blowing its top. The narrator said 'spurting' at least three times. 

After a bit, he reached for the box of tissues and tried to clean Hector up, but he wasn't sure there was much point. They were both just going to get messy again. 

That made him smile helplessly at the lava fields on the TV screen and wonder if this counted as a Christmas present. And if it did, for which one of them, because Hector was clearly more in need, which made him wonder how exactly he'd gotten on Shadwell's Christmas card list. Had Man About Town even existed six years ago? And anyway, Hector had said one night stand, not call boy, and why lie when Jo was, well, yeah. Huh. 

He was thinking about it so hard that he was now frowning at the volcanoes. When Hector reached up and touched his cheek, he jumped.

"Do you want to go?" Hector asked. His index finger brushed over Jo's bottom lip. "It's all right if you do. I won't make a fuss." 

He sounded utterly calm about it, as if nothing could matter less. Jo swallowed. "You're the one who said it wasn't safe."

"I'm sure it's not," Hector said. He tilted his head towards the television. "All that lava. Your car's probably all melted by now anyway." And then he smiled, and Jo had to smile back even though his chest was so tight it felt like someone was sitting on it. He really didn't want to leave. 

"The last guy, I mean from Man About Town, what did you-- Did you?" he blurted out. Neither of them had said anything about the money or the sex or anything, and now... Now he had. 

But Hector only curled on his side and kissed Jo's stomach. "It sounded so simple. I suppose that's the point. But in the end, I think I only embarrassed both of us. I did pay him, but only for wasting his time." 

Maybe it was a good thing money had come up, after all, because it let Jo say, "Don't pay me." 

Hector smiled up at him with bright eyes and said, "Well, I haven't wasted your time." 

It wasn't all that funny, but Jo laughed anyway, a release of tension that felt exactly like shoving someone invisible off his chest and giving them a good kicking. "Do you have more eggnog?" he said. "Because I just thought of this plan that involves getting you drunk and taking you to bed." 

Hector widened his eyes and put a hand over his heart. "My god," he said. "You're brilliant." He smiled. "Yes, I have rather a lot as it happens. It's all in the refrigerator though, which through some lack of foresight I have left in the kitchen." 

"I don't think it would fit in here. Or go with your--" He waved a hand around at all the books. "Decorative motif?"

Hector sat up abruptly. "That's where I left Euripides!" he said, and bounded toward the kitchen. He returned with a pitcher of eggnog, two glasses, and a book that he dumped on Jo's lap. Jo yelped. The book was cold.

"Was this in your fridge?"

"Yes. Here, drink your eggnog."

Jo did, and shook his head. "How do you even do that?"

"Oh, it's a very simple recipe, just eggs and--"

"The book! In your fridge!" Jo said, completely unable to stop grinning. 

"It's a play, actually. About crossdressing and sex and ritual murder."

"Wow. Really?"

"Oh, yes. I'll read you some later if you're good."

"Baby, I'm the best," Jo said. 

Hector climbed into his lap and slid his hands into Jo's robe. He nudged the glasses with his foot and they chinked with a small bright sound like they were toasting something all by themselves. Hector leaned in and kissed Jo's neck. "I'm prepared to believe that," he said. He slid his palms up over Jo's ribs and he made a small appreciative sound. "You've got a lovely chest." 

"Thanks," Jo said, sucking in his stomach and flexing slightly. "I work out."

He licked Jo's ear, hot breath tickling, and pressed closer. "It's very nice. I'd like to come all over it, Jo."

Oh, dear god. Jo slipped his hands into the back of Hector's loosely fastened jeans and cupped his ass. Blood was pulsing straight to his cock, bypassing his brain with a merry fucking wave. Hector arched his back in a sinuous slow movement. For someone who hadn't fucked anyone for six years, it was awesomely erotic. The book was still pressed between them, a cold patch that was getting warmer all the time. Jo pulled it out and heard Hector's soft pleased laugh in his ear. 

"I want that too," Jo said. He pressed his mouth to nearest bit of Hector's skin, the base of his neck, and sucked, then did it harder when Hector arched his neck to the side. He tightened his grip and pulled Hector closer. "God, I want you."

"Let's go to bed," Hector said, sounding urgent. He pushed Jo's robe over his shoulders and down, leaving him naked. His breath caught and he stroked both hands down Jo's chest to his stomach, just catching the sides of Jo's cock with his finger tips. "Now." 

The volcanoes were still erupting on TV as they staggered though the door into the bedroom. It was hard to move with Hector twisting round him, kissing him and touching him. At the bedroom door Jo had to pause, just for a moment. There were books on the bed, and they were scattered all across the place where another person might go. 

Hector pressed up behind him and took Jo's cock in his warm palm. "Mmm."

"You-- Oh-- sleep with books?" Jo managed to say.

"They're easier to deal with than people," Hector murmured. 

"Easier? Oh, god." He leaned his head back on Hector's shoulder. 

"Mostly. I can move them if they bother you." 

"Don't care," Jo said, and he didn't, not even a little while later with the cold hard spine of one jammed under his ass. The others had ended up on the floor in fluttering heaps. Hector straddled him, his warm thighs rubbing against Jo's and both hands on Jo's chest. His eyes were closed and his mouth was open and he was sinking down achingly slowly, lashes fluttering and tiny beads of sweat forming on his upper lip. 

He curled his fingers so that his nails dug into Jo's skin. He moaned faintly and let his head fall back. "Oh, so good," he whispered. The muscles in his thighs were trembling as he lowered himself, wildly hot and tight, and slicked with oil because they couldn't find anything else. "This is so good, Jo."

"Come on, give me more," Jo said. He stroked Hector's hips, feeling the play of his muscles. Hector rocked back and hissed through his teeth as he sank down to the base of Jo's cock. He bit his lip and shivered a little, settling further. He'd been hard when they started and now he was soft. Jo cupped his cock in one hand.

"Okay?" he said, softly. 

Hector nodded, cheeks flushed hectic red. His eyes glittered under his lashes. "I haven't done this for a long time," he said. "It feels strange. Good but strange."

Like you, Jo almost said. He closed his eyes and let himself feel Hector's smooth skin. Hector's cock was thickening in his hand as he groped it. Blood throbbed in Jo's veins with almost impossible pressure. Hector made a soft noise and tensed around him, then settled more. 

"I can feel your pulse," Hector whispered. "Inside me." He touched Jo's nipples, rolling them between his thumb and finger. He arched his back and they both made almost the same sound. "So hot," Hector breathed. 

"Yeah, you are," Jo said, and caught Hector's brief wide smile. "You gonna ride me?" he said, and he took hold of Hector's waist. "I want you to fuck yourself on me."

Hector moaned again, staring down at him. "Do you always talk like this in bed?" he said, in a wavering kind of voice. He was moving now, in slow short downward thrusts. He was fully hard now too, and his cock jutted out, hard and red. It looked awesome, Jo thought. He wanted it. Maybe in his mouth later, yeah. He swallowed and looked up. Hector was watching him, his face serious again. 

Jo shook his head on the pillow, and Hector reached forward, a little clumsily, to touch the spill of his hair. "No, it's just you," Jo said. 

"Oh," Hector whispered. He closed his eyes very quickly and bit his lip, and Jo hooked a hand round his neck and pulled him down for a kiss. "Oh," he gasped. 

They moved fast and hard after that. Jo couldn't keep himself from holding Hector tight and still and fucking up into him with hard fast desperate strokes, his hips slapping against Hector's ass. Hector moaned low and braced himself, letting Jo do what he wanted, gasping and sucking at Jo's mouth. He came on Jo's chest, and so hard that some of it even licked up over Jo's cheek. 

"Oh, fuck. Gonna fuck you hard," Jo said, not able to think. He flipped them over and got Hector on his stomach, all languid limbs and soft little sighs and moans. He slid back in one long slick thrust. Hector moaned again and caught Jo's fingers and brought them to his mouth, sucking them in. 

"I can't take much more," he said, against Jo's fingertips. His breath was hot and when Jo touched his back it was damp with sweat. "It's too much-- Oh-- "

"It's okay, baby. It's okay," he mumbled. He didn't even know what he meant, just that it really was okay, everything was. He shifted his hips, settling deeper so that Hector made a muffled whimpering sound. That was all it took. He thrust again and came in a dizzy hot rush with Hector still sucking on his fingertips.

"Oh, that's nice," Hector whispered, pressing his cheek to the pillow. He turned to look over his shoulder, Jo's fingers slipping from his mouth, and Jo leaned down and pressed their mouths together. Hector was shaking under him. 

Jo pressed his forehead to Hector's damp skin for a few seconds, finding his breath again. He pulled out soon after, taking it slow and careful, but Hector winced a little anyway. 

"Sorry," Jo said.

"No, don't be," said Hector, rolling over to sprawl on his back. He yawned and stroked Jo's thigh as Jo kneeled over him. "You were wonderful," he said, smiling. 

"Yeah? Really?" Guys had said stuff like that to him before, but it'd never made him grin like he was now. Hector giggled, which was crazy cute, and Jo leaned down and kissed him on the mouth, loving the softness of his lips and the slow kisses Hector gave him, each one so gentle and sweet. 

"Yes, really," Hector murmured. "Do men tell you things like this all the time?"

"Well. Yeah. Sometimes. Uh." He pressed his forehead to Hector's and grinned. "I have to piss."

Hector watched him from the bed, head propped on his hand. In the bathroom, Jo peed and then washed a little. Afterwards he pressed his forehead to the cool mirror and looked into his own eyes from close range, so they were blurry blobs. He didn't know what he was doing here, with Hector. 

Hector was waiting for him with the covers turned back. They lay side by side, facing each other, with the blankets pulled up to their chins. Hector moved close, letting his leg slide over Jo's. They looked at each other across the pillow. Outside, wind rattled the window panes. 

"Where would you be now?" Hector said. 

"Where would I be?"

"If you hadn't been trapped here by deadly ice."

"You make it sound like killer bees or something."

Hector touched his mouth and waited. 

Jo closed his eyes and leaned his cheek against Hector's hand. "Dunno. I do whatever the client wants, mostly. Sometimes they just want an escort to a party or whatever and that's all. Or just dinner out and conversation."

Hector stroked his cheek. "And sometimes it's, hm, what did you say? Showing off your yule log?"

"Christmas special. There was gonna be a lot of that tonight."

"Followed by a lot of sex."

"Yeah, probably." He opened his eyes. Hector was very close, almost as close as Jo's own eyes in the bathroom mirror. "It's not so bad," he said. "I mean, it's fine." 

"Mm," Hector said, and ran a hand through his hair. He did it again, and again, and Jo shut his eyes. It would be easy to sleep, he thought. 

"It's kind of fun sometimes," he said. "The fancy parties. Even the sex."

"Sometimes is better than never, at least," Hector said, quietly.

"Yeah," Jo said. "I guess."

"You might have to stay tomorrow too." 

"I'd like that."

Hector stroked his cheek. "We could have more sex. I promise to make it all highly enjoyable."

Jo smiled into the pillow. "You don't have to promise anything." 

"I'd like you to promise me something," Hector said. 

"Huh?" He wondered if Hector actually wanted to see him again, or if he was going to ask Jo to promise not to tell anyone they fucked, or if he wanted Jo to quit his job, or what. None of that really sounded likely. Well, maybe the first part, just maybe. Jo wasn't thinking about that. 

"You must tell me if you want me to stop," Hector said. Jo had time to wonder stop what and picture about ten bizarre sexual fetishes before Hector had flipped open his cross-dressing grisly ritual murder play and started reading to him. 

"I've arrived here in the land of Thebes, I, Dionysus, son of Zeus, born to him from Semele, Cadmus' daughter, delivered by a fiery midwife--Zeus' lightning flash..."

His voice was soft and deep, and he sounded happy. That, more than the actual words, followed Jo into sleep.


End file.
